A Winchester Christmas
by Lif61
Summary: Jack learns about Christmas and wants to celebrate. His dads aren't too thrilled at first given how they grew up.


**A/N: ****Merry Christmas! Had a feeling I'd get this fic out in time. Hopefully have one more Christmas fic coming out, but it'll most likely have torture, so _completely_ different from this one. Enjoy! I just love Jack.**

* * *

Jack didn't know what a holiday movie was until Netflix had suggested it to him. What holiday? And what one was so important that Netflix suddenly had a whole category for it? Why were people going out in the cold and making things called snowmen? What was hot chocolate? What were candy canes? Why were people putting trees in their homes? Why was the music different? Who was Santa? Did he actually bring presents?

It took awhile to sort it all out. In one movie someone accidently killed Santa and became him. In another one a postman found a mystical woodsman, and the woodsman became Santa. There was a train in another one the computer suggested to him when he tried to do research.

These couldn't be real, could they? _Star Wars_ wasn't real... unfortunately.

So he set to doing more research, trying to get to the bottom of it.

By the time morning rolled around and he'd come out of his room to grab a late breakfast and settle down with his dads in the library, he was prepared with a notebook, and stripped out pages of notes, and even some drawings. His laptop was with him. Toast in his mouth, growing soggy, he sat down, and started to sort out his notes.

"What's all this?" Sam asked, a smile on his face, bring his book closer to him from his spot across the table to make room for his things.

"Research."

"Did you find us a case?" Castiel asked from the head of the table.

Jack grinned at all of them, brimming with ecstatic energy despite his sleepless night.

"Better."

Dean set his feet up and sipped at his coffee, still in his bathrobe, hair disheveled, looking groggy.

"It'd better be good. I want a nap."

"Dean, you just got up," Sam snapped.

"And it was an ordeal."

Jack stood, arms crossed, waiting for them to quiet down.

"Dean, Jack wants to start," Cas reprimanded.

"Go on!" Sam urged excitedly, leaning forward.

"Christmas!" Jack told them, throwing his arms out, not sure how else to begin.

He was met with raised eyebrows, pursed lips, his dads leaning back.

"Uh…"

He began shuffling through paper. "Look, I know the modern day idea of Santa's not real, and he's a tale parents tell their kids, and that he's derived from a mixture of Roman, Greek, and Norse myths, along with the man St. Nicholas who was born in 280 CE in Patara, and later canonized by the Christians, but it's a big deal… at least for thirty-two percent of the world." He shook his head at the fact, realizing it didn't help him so much. Jack opened up his notebook, and flipped through pages, trying to find more information. "Okay, small number, of course not everyone does it. There's Kwanzaa, Hanukkah, Diwali, Bodhi Day, Dongzhi… but since we're categorically, I don't know, white. Well, uh… I don't know, I guess Castiel and I can be whatever, and celebrate whatever, but since we're in Kansas, and Sam, and Dean, you're part of my family, I want to do what you do. And it seems the whole world does something this time of year. So let's do Christmas. I think my mom did it."

Dean's feet had come off the table during this explanation, and now he leaned forward, staring into his coffee cup as he scratched at his scruff. Sam was pointedly not meeting his eyes, and Castiel was giving Sam and Dean a curious glance.

"Look, kid," Dean began, "I hate to burst your bubble. I… I love your enthusiasm, and you did a crap ton of research, and I love it, I really do." He grabbed one of the drawings, which was done in crayon, the four of them wearing Christmas sweaters, rough drawings of quarter notes leaving their circle mouths. Jack had his eyebrows drawn together, as he watched Dean observing it. "I mean, this… this is great." Sam nodded. Castiel gave him an honest, open look, showing that it was quite true. "But Christmas just ain't something we do."

He gently slid the drawing back across the table.

"I'm sorry, kid."

Sam met his eyes, and gave him a sad smile for a quick second.

Castiel quietly asked, "May I?" as he reached out a hand to Jack's research.

The pages didn't look as professional as his dads' notes since he had yet to figure out how to write in lowercase, and some letters were… off. Maybe they were backwards? But he'd done his best.

Dean was getting up, leaving. Jack was taking a seat now, sighing.

"I know the movies aren't… real, but I was hoping…" He trailed off. He didn't know what he'd been hoping for. Maybe something special. Maybe it'd been some middle of the night excitement that no longer made sense during the day.

"Christmas just hasn't been great for us," Sam explained, some old pain in his eyes. "But…" He leaned forward, hazel now sparkling with something. "That doesn't mean it has to be that way for you." Now he got up, calling, "Dean, get your ass back in here!"

Incoherent grumbling was shouted at them from the hall, and Sam did the same thing back, but louder. He must have won the wordless argument because Dean was shuffling back in.

"We're doing something this year," Sam said. "Cas, you're in on this too."

"Really?" Jack asked hopefully, straightening. "You mean it?"

"Of course," Sam told him, going over and grabbing his shoulder, squeezing it, warmth spreading from his fingers. "You mean the world to us. We'd do anything for you."

Jack took the drawing that Castiel was now holding and gave it to Sam.

"Even this?"

Castiel and Dean crowded around him, looking apprehensive, but Sam shrugged, a big smile on his face. "Yeah, even that."

Jack beamed.

* * *

It took a few days for his dads to get everything together, but they'd worked hard. There were two trees on either side of the entrance into the library that had been thoroughly decorated. Sam and Castiel had done their best, but Dean had heartily complained, much to Jack's amusement as he sat and ate the lunch they'd given him, and he'd taken over. There were wreaths, some garlands. Jack got to try hot chocolate, and it didn't wake him up nearly as much as coffee did, but it was… like a hug in a mug. That's how he would describe it, though it wasn't even close to as good as a hug from any of his dads.

When he started getting in their way a lot when they were moving ladders, or distracting them with questions, they'd hand him a candy cane. He'd still stare, still talk, but now he had a refreshing sugary taste in his mouth, and something he could suck into point, which he jokingly stabbed Castiel with when he realized it wouldn't hurt him. It just left sticky, red and white marks, which he saw Dean eyeing.

Eventually, they sat Jack down in the war room one night, went into the library and hid from his sight and came back out all wearing the ugliest sweaters Jack had ever seen. Warm laughter came up from his stomach, nearly hurting his diaphragm, and bubbled up from his lungs to come out of his mouth. Sam's was green, with white cotton on it like snow, and bells and lights hanging on it. He pressed a button and the lights lit up, even began to flash. Dean was in the middle, his sweater a midnight blue with silver sparkles, and snowmen faces, the carrots made out of some kind of stuffed fabric, attached to the sweater, and actually sticking out in all directions, and they poked at Castiel, who was very close to him. Castiel was in red, and he had a full reindeer head attached to the front, a wreath around its head. Jack laughed so hard he cried, leaning his head against the table, trying to hold himself up with one arm. Oh, he was glad he was sitting.

His dads were laughing now too, but weren't playing with the shirts like Jack wanted to. They were busy holding sheets of paper, but it almost didn't matter.

Eventually Sam cleared his throat, and Jack tried to quell his laughter, putting a hand over his mouth, but still he giggled.

All went quiet, and Dean reached out and jingled a bell on Sam's shirt. His hand got slapped away. Dean frowned, looking as if he was about to complain, and Castiel grabbed his other hand.

"Singing," Sam said. "We're gonna try singing."

"Um, I'm not sure how to start," Castiel began.

"You're an angel," Dean pointed out. "Didn't practice any Heavenly choirs up there?"

All he got was a long look.

"Okay, uh… one, two, three, four…" Dean counted off.

They broke out into a tone-deaf version of _Let It Snow_. Jack thought perhaps Castiel would've sounded better in Enochian. Dean was trying too hard, and didn't seem to actually know what notes were, and Sam seemed nervous, but they got more into it, especially as Jack bounced along.

Next was one Jack hadn't come across in his research, and the Winchesters did weird gestures with it, seeming as if they were pretending to play the guitar. There was a lot of poor singing about "rockin' around the Christmas tree."

Castiel even tried to do the air guitar motions at the end, getting in between Sam and Dean, and he sang into Dean's face, and Dean sang back, and Sam sang over both of them from behind, ending with his arms around them, papers fluttering to the floor.

He couldn't seem to collect his papers in the right order, so they stayed like that as they sang more songs, sharing: _Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer_ (Dean pressed a hidden button on Castiel's sweater at that and the reindeer nose lit up, making Jack stand up and clap), _A Holly Jolly Christmas_, _Jingle Bells_, and _Santa Claus is Coming to Town_.

They ended with red faces, laughter, and Jack's ears hating him for the idea, but his heart loving it.

He ran up and hugged them, yelling, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

Dean ran a knuckled hand over and over his hair. "Merry Christmas, kid."

Jack pulled back, looking at all three of his dads.

"Those are really ugly sweaters."

"Anything for you," Castiel said.

"So what's next?" Sam asked.

"Hmm…" Jack said, thinking. "What do you usually do on Christmas?"

Dean grinned, something mischievous coming over his face, maybe even a tad dark. Sam joined him. "Any of that research of yours contain any nasty, entitled minor gods who ain't gettin' their holiday cheer on?"

Jack shook his head.

"Well, looks like we're grabbin' the wooden stakes. Merry Christmas," he repeated, before rushing off.

"Merry Christmas," Castiel told him, pulling him closer.

And then he received a strong, warm hug from Sam. "Merry Christmas." He leaned down and whispered in his ear, "Thanks for this, Jack. You really cheered me up this year. Wouldn't be a good holiday without you." He clapped him on the shoulder when he pulled back.

Jack had been meaning to say _merry Christmas_ back, but instead he couldn't, and just saw the gratitude in Sam's teary gaze. He didn't understand the pain about Christmas that his dads had, but it wasn't there now. And they had made sure it wasn't there for Jack.

A solemn tear trailed down his face, and he smiled wide and big. They were departing, grabbing things for an eventual hunt, and Jack rushed after them.

Christmas with the Winchesters. Christmas with family.


End file.
